This could be the worst day of my life
by Airgid-chead
Summary: It just wasn't Seimei's day.


A/N Hello :) I decided that since Seimei is always the collected and cool one, I had to make him crack XD In this fic, he's fifteen and Ritsuka's ten, before the memory loss. So Misaki hasn't gone all crazy yet, too. I think that's it.

Disclaimer: I do not own _Loveless_.

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**This could be the worst day of my life**

...

- Oh, Seimei, you're already leaving? – Misaki gave her older son a concerned look. After all, he'd only spent about an hour downstairs.

- I'm sorry, mum – Seimei replied in an appropriately apologetic tone – I have a headache. I thought it'd pass, but it's getting worse rather than anything.

His family seated around a coffee table nodded with understanding bordering on pity. The first family reunion in over five years and Seimei wasn't feeling well. Poor boy.

- Maybe you should take a painkiller – his aunt suggested, already reaching to her purse to offer him one.

- I think I will – her nephew agreed, shaking his head at the proposed pill – I'm afraid I'm allergic to this kind – he said smoothly – I have some in my room.

- I see – the woman smiled, putting the pill back – I hope you get better tomorrow.

- I'll do my best. I'd hate to miss a chance to talk to all of you – he assured everyone present – Now, if you'll excuse me…

He had to restrain himself from strolling furiously upstairs. He hadn't anticipated his family to visit, not during a holiday break. His plans to spend the time alone with Ritsuka had been shattered with a single ring of a door bell. Now his Ritsuka was gods only knew where, running and shrieking with their cousins. Seimei shuddered. The idea of his brother getting sweaty and dirty because of those animals was making him sick. Just as the offered pill.

How could his brother choose those beasts over him? Sure that a ten-year-old children usually preferred a company of their peers to a company of their older, supposedly boring siblings, but that was Ritsuka and Seimei and…

He shot the door shut behind him. Silly Ritsuka, abandoning his brother when he was unwell.

Alright, so technically there was nothing wrong with him unless you counted his wounded pride, but Ritsuka didn't have to know that, just like the family downstairs.

He stomped to his computer and kicked it on (a habit practised over years), wishing he could just throw those cretins out. Cretins who had the nerve to flaunt the blood ties they had with him. He looked at his reflection in the monitor. He didn't even resemble any of them, another proof he was made of different substance.

His self-admiration was abruptly interrupted by knocking. Couldn't they leave him alone for a minute?

He turned to the door only to realise the knocking was coming from another side of the room. The balcony. Great, Soubi was just what was missing from this whole mess.

He angrily pushed the curtains away.

Then quickly pulled them back.

He hadn't been prepared to see his new fighter there. Leaning on the window he prayed the boy would just go. It was childish on his part, all he should do was order the fighter to leave, but he wasn't overly keen on even starting a conversation with Akame. Maybe he'd get the clue.

Nisei apparently didn't as the knocking resumed, this time three times louder.

Someone was bound to hear it and come to investigate, so Seimei was left with no choice but to let the fighter in. As unreasonable as it may sound, he wasn't comfortable in the presence of his true fighter. He was supposed to control him, but he couldn't shake of the feeling that it was Akame who was controlling him. The way the boy talked, moved, kept giving him mocking smirks or glances. How he carried on teasing and laughing at him, listening to his orders only when practically physically forced.

Besides, it was a healthy human self-preservation instinct not to let a sociopath into your house.

Steeling himself and putting on his best self-confident expression, he opened the door.

- What are you doing here? – he hissed, blocking the way inside.

- Knocking? – the fighter knocked again.

- Stop it – Seimei snapped, smacking the offending hand away – How did you know where I live?

Nisei gave him an incredulous look.

- One would assume I followed the bond. In fact, I checked in a phone book – he giggled, bracing himself against a door frame.

- Get out. You're high – it finally hit Seimei that the fighter's pupils were unnaturally dilated and his speech suspiciously slurred.

Not waiting for an answer, he slammed the door close.

He'd managed to take four steps before Akame started banging on the window.

Cursing, Seimei opened the door again, so swiftly Nisei lost his dubious balance and fell head first inside, landing on his Sacrifice.

- Get a grip on yourself – the younger boy spat, trying to prop the other up into a proper standing position.

He made Nisei lean on a windowsill and sighed heavily, ready to begin a rant. He was threw off track when he noticed there was nothing but skinny jeans underneath Akame's long coat.

- Out – he gritted out when he was fairly sure Nisei could hear him – Get out, you junkie.

- I beg to differ – the fighter put up his finger, dangerously swaying on his legs – I'm 'o junkie. I'm merely drunkkk… - he attempted to turn around (getting Seimei's hopes high, because that was the right direction outside), but tripped on his own foot, crashing down despite the sacrifice's best intents to catch him.

The ruckus their produced hitting the floor was audible in the entire house. They almost brought the curtains down with them as Seimei reached for them to stop himself from falling down.

Soon, there were footsteps coming up the stairs. To make it more difficult, the high-or-drunk fighter was lying atop of Seimei, preventing him from getting up. Judging but not-quite-there quality of his eyes, Akame wasn't going anywhere in the nearest future.

- Seimei? Everything's alright? – his father's voice came from behind the door.

- Perfect! – he called back, trying to dislodge the dead weight from his stomach.

- Are you sure? What was that noise? – Aoyagi-san was genuinely worried.

Any other time Seimei would be happy that he made his father worry, because he usually didn't display any emotions towards their sons, but he'd rather didn't know the emotion he would display seeing his firstborn under a half-naked man.

- I walked into the lamp – he was almost free.

- Seimei? – Aoyagi-san knocked – You don't have the lamp.

Oh, right, he'd brought it downstairs just two days ago, claiming it had been ruining the view.

Success. He was on his all fours now, just one leg stuck under Akame.

- The desk one – he yelled.

Free!

He ran to the door and opened it just when his father was already pushing the handle down.

- As I said, I knocked down the lamp from the desk – playing cool, he combed a hand through his curls.

- You walked into the desk lamp? – Aoyagi-san arched an eyebrow on his son, apparently not buying it.

Seimei didn't need to have the lameness of his excuse thrown into his face.

- No – he stated – I walked into the desk. The lamp fell down in the process.

He'd pay a million to an idiot who believed a desk lamp could make such noise falling down.

- Did you break it? – his father inquired, trying to take a peek inside.

- No, it's in one piece, it's a tough lamp – Seimei explained, graciously blocking his father's way.

He was aware his father didn't trust him as a rule. Well, it seemed Aoyagi-san had a great insight when it came to people.

- If you'd destroyed something… - he started sternly.

- If I ever do, I'll buy a replacement with my money – Seimei readily finished for him, noticing with a corner of his eye that Akame was beginning to stir.

- Good we're clear – his father smiled – If something happens, though…

- You'll be the first to know.

Finally, the man left.

Seimei hadn't realised he'd been holding his breath. He entertained the thought of locking the door, but decided against it watching as Nisei was dragging himself from the floor and on his bed. Better safe than sorry.

Shaking with silent fury and stress, he grabbed Nisei's collar and pulled him up, depositing him more or less on the bed.

- Idiot – he spat, slapping him hard. He was half relieving his nervousness, half hoping to help Akame focus.

Black eyes shot up to measure him. Seimei would bet his arm Akame had little idea what was going on. Just what he needed.

- Nisei – he spoke up slowly and deliberately – Nisei. Hey, Earth to Nisei! – he flicked his fingers at him, righteously afraid that another slap would knock Akame out.

A grunt.

- Nisei! – he waved his hand in front of the fighter's eyes – Nise-eei…! Ah! – Seimei gasped when his wrist was swiftly caught in a steely grip.

Akame brought his head up.

- Release me – the sacrifice commanded evenly, heart hammering like crazy.

Something sparked in Nisei's pupils and he let him go.

Fighting down an urge to massage his wrist, Seimei barked out.

- You have to get out of here. Now.

Nisei tilted his head.

- I can't.

- Why not? – Seimei was ready to throw him out himself, safety be damned.

- I'm being stalked – his fighter calmly informed him.

- What?

- Yes, someone's stalking me – Nisei repeated.

- Who? – Seimei groaned, itching to ask whether the stalker were Nisei's wits that had clearly left him. Maybe they were trying to catch up.

Nisei motioned for him to get closer.

A bile in his throat, Seimei leaned down so they were face to face.

- Look out the window – Nisei breathed out, the stench of alcohol assaulting Seimei's nostrils – There's a man in the street.

Indulging the fighter, or rather getting away from the stink, the sacrifice approached the window. Oh yes, there was a man here. His neighbour with a puppy.

- I'm fairly sure he's not stalking you – his mouth twitched – You don't stalk people dragging a six-week-old puppy with you.

- Claro he's not stalking me – Akame confirmed in a serious tone – I meant the other man.

- There's no one else here – the sacrifice rolled his purple eyes meaningfully.

Nisei tensed up, looking around, creating the atmosphere of conspiracy.

- He's hiding – he whispered – He's invisible.

- Fuck, Nisei, paranoid much? – Seimei shouted, dashing to his fighter's side – Get up – he hoisted him up by a thin arm.

Nisei let himself be manhandled until it dawned on him Seimei was steering him towards the balcony. He dug his heels in.

- I'm not going out – he whined, throwing his weight at Seimei to direct them towards the bed again.

- Listen, you lunatic – the sacrifice shoved him forward – You're getting out. That's an order.

Akame clung to him like a monkey.

- An order, does it ring a bell?

Nisei murmured something in Seimei's chest.

- What?

- I'd rather be punished than go out – the fighter confessed in a small voice.

Personally, Seimei would rather punish him than be wrestling with him like that, only it'd be difficult to keep Nisei quiet throughout it and he didn't fancy having to explain why there was a drunk, half-naked, bleeding man in his room.

- You don't have the grace of choice – he cut in sharply – You can't stay here.

- I'll be good – Nisei was practically sobbing now.

- You're never good you little shit, besides, it's not about you.

- Not about me? – the fighter was honestly surprised. From what he'd gathered it was always about him. His incompetence, his insanity, his lack of experience etc. Even about his hair.

- No. There are ten people in this house at the moment.

- Eleventh wouldn't make a difference, would it? – Nisei hopefully proposed.

- How do you imagine I would explain why there's a male in my room? A stranger – Seimei was spitting out at a record pace – A drunkard? A half-naked stranger? – they were a step away from the balcony – Just wait a second, why are you half-naked in the first place?

Nisei had the decency to grow red.

- So? Why? – Seimei pressed, forcing his chin up.

- I got thrown out…

- Not that it shocks me, but where from?

Nisei began to shift, miserable.

- Frommimuro'shouse – he said in one breath.

- Where?

- Mimuro's house – Nisei whimpered pitifully.

- The Fearless sacrifice? – Seimei demanded a verification.

Nisei only nodded.

Before he could say what was happening, he was unceremoniously dumped on the balcony.

- Hey! – he cried out indignantly when the door was shut in his face – Let me in! Seimei! – he banged on the window – It's not funny! SEIMEI!

How Seimei wished the balcony would just fall off.

He opened a smaller window next to the balcony door.

- Go away.

- Seimei, let me in – Nisei begged, reaching out for his Sacrifice.

- Which part of "go away" your pea of a brain doesn't understand? – an angry hiss – Stop disobeying me.

- I can't go home – Nisei whispered feverishly.

- You have no valid reason to stay. You're drunk and not even aware of the crap you're saying – Seimei made an attempt at rationalising.

His good intentions flew out the very window he was standing at when Nisei tried to put his arm inside to open the balcony. Without thinking, the sacrifice just shut the window, almost cutting off the invading hand.

Nisei was saved only by his reflexes, sharp despite his state. He sent a litany of Spanish curses at Seimei, then proceed to kick the balcony door.

- You bastard! You could've cut off my hand! Sick idiot!

- Shut the hell up – Seimei snapped opening the window once again – You're going to alarm everyone – the window was closed.

- Let me in! – another kick.

- Go away.

- Seimei!

- Fuck off!

Nisei threw himself at the door, making the glass shake.

That caused Seimei to open the balcony door, but he still didn't let the fighter in, standing in his way.

- You're really begging for it – he noted maliciously, but they both knew no punishment would take place that night.

- Just let me stay…

- No! What the hell were you doing at Mimuro's?

Nisei blinked stupidly.

- Planning to spend the nig-… HEY! – the door was shut before he could finish.

So he was soon banging again.

Seimei felt a headache with a size of Russia coming his way. The foreboding feeling intensified when there came a different kind of knocking from his room door. He drew the curtains and called out.

- Who's there?

- It's me – Misaki's distressed voice could be heard – Is everything alright?

Of course it wasn't, there was a drunk or high madman on his balcony.

- Sure it is, mum – he assured gently.

- What's that noise? It sounds as if someone was yelling – she wasn't easily convinced. Not that Seimei blamed her.

- It's just the computer.

- The computer? Seimei dear, are you sure you should be playing a game when you have a headache? – sweet Misaki, still believing he had a headache rather than scolding him for running away from the family meeting.

- You're right, I'll turn it off right now…

Nisei chose that moment to kick the window again.

- What was that? – Misaki sounded suspicious.

- Nothing – Seimei knocked on the glass himself to indicate Nisei should quit it – Just knocking to Takeuchi-san – he angrily drew the curtains back – He's out with his puppy.

- Is it polite to knock at him? – trust Misaki to buy it.

- He's waving back at me – Seimei assured warmly, moving his finger across his neck to show his fighter that he'd kill him if he pulled any stupid stunt.

- Alright darling, just go to bed soon if you want to get better tomorrow – his mother advised and walked away.

Seimei wrenched the door open and pulled Nisei inside by his collar.

- You won, you weasel – he admitted bitterly.

The fighter grinned cheekily and jumped on the bed.

Only to be pushed off hard.

- What was that for? – he groaned from the floor, looking daggers at his Sacrifice.

- I don't want you contaminating my bed – Seimei folded his arms.

- I've already been on it today – Nisei reminded in a tone of a person who'd just discovered a new element.

- But I won't have you contaminating it with that Fearless weakling's essence – Seimei, on the other hand, sounded like someone who'd just found out that the newly-discovered element wasn't radioactive like he'd previously thought – Anyway, why were you at his place?

- I had to sleep somewhere – the fighter replied wearily.

- You have a flat.

- Yes, but the stalker is watching it.

Seimei kicked the bed, hurting his foot.

- Have you finally lost it for good? – he spat, trying to relieve the pain by jumping on one leg.

- Have you? – Nisei eyed him from underneath his hair.

Seimei ceased his jumping.

- OK – he took a deep breath – So you claim your flat is being watched.

Nisei confirmed it with a nod.

- Why?

- Maybe the stalker knows about the killings – Nisei shrugged, but his eyes were wandering nervously.

- Impossible – Seimei huffed – The only people capable of tracking it back to you are the Septimal Moon and believe me, they don't even begin to suspect anything.

The fighter actually pouted.

- Gods, Nisei – Seimei shook his head – You're sixteen. It's high time you stopped imagining things.

- I'm not – came a sulking reply.

- If you're not, why did you find it necessary to get drunk when you knew you were being stalked? – Seimei put up his hands in frustration.

- I didn't have enough money to buy a new jacket – Nisei looked scandalised.

How had this psycho avoided getting locked away?

- You got drunk because you don't have money to buy a jacket – Seimei repeated tonelessly in case Nisei didn't fully comprehend the absurdity of his explanation.

The fighter furrowed his eyebrows, probably in an attempt at registering the words.

- Ya – he deemed Seimei's shortened version true to what had really taken place.

The sacrifice only hid his face in his palm.

- Alright – he sighed – You didn't have money for a jacket, yet you spent what you had on liquor rather than started saving it?

Nisei shook his head vehemently, his long hair flying.

- I didn't buy it with my money.

- You robbed someone? – Seimei definitely wouldn't put it past him.

Akame scratched his chin.

- Hmm, no, not really – he sounded serious. As serious as one can sound slurring – I borrowed it from a friend.

- You don't have friends – Seimei automatically pointed out. But come on, Nisei was more of a social loser than he was.

- An acquaintance – the fighter relented.

- Mimuro?

- No, no! – Nisei denied quickly. Mimuro seemed to be a sore spot for Seimei – Someone else.

- Do they know you borrowed it? – Seimei suspected that in Akame's dictionary the word "borrow" may have a different definition that in everyone else's.

- He does now.

Just as Seimei thought. The useless cretin hadn't had money to buy a fucking jacket, so he'd got all bitchy like usual when something went not how he wanted it, so he'd decided to drown his chagrin in alcohol. Not able to afford it himself, he'd stolen some cash from one of those poor suckers who believed him to be their friend and now his victim had found out and was probably set on getting the money back. So the idiot was refusing to go back home so he wouldn't have to face his unwilling creditor.

He just didn't feel like dealing with it.

- Alright – he capitulated – Stay the night. Just be quiet and preferably stay out of my sight – he turned to switch off the computer but something made him stop in his tracks.

- What are you doing? – he gave Nisei a wide-eyed stare.

Nothing.

- Nisei, for gods' sake, what are you playing at? – he strolled to the fighter who was calmly taking off his coat – Speak up!

Nisei sent him a hurt look.

- You told me to be quiet – he pouted – Make up your mind.

That was it. Seimei drew his hand back and slapped the fighter so hard he fell down.

Not that he had a long distance to fall. He'd been only kneeling, after all.

- You're not staying here naked – the sacrifice growled and pulled Nisei up by his hair – We'll get you a shirt.

He hauled the fighter to his wardrobe and opened it.

- Take something – he graciously offered, a migraine wreaking havoc in his skull.

Wary of Seimei's next move, Nisei bent forward to find a shirt his Sacrifice wasn't fond of. He didn't wish to be scolded for sullying the best part of the boy's wardrobe.

- Seimei! – someone called from behind the door – I hope you're not sleeping yet, your mother says there are photo albums in your room.

Shit, it was his aunt.

- I'm coming in – she announced and Seimei had just enough time to push Nisei into the wardrobe and shut the door.

- Darling, not in bed yet? – aunt Sakura eyed her nephew leaning against the wardrobe, cheeks flushed and breathing erratic.

- Evening toilette – the boy's tone was exhausted. Probably because of the headache.

- Make sure to sleep for at least nine hours, it'll do you good – his aunt was well-known in the family for health management.

- Sure – Seimei agreed blandly, not having the energy to play the nice nephew – The albums are under my bed – he didn't even move to assist his aunt with taking them.

Offended by the boy's behaviour, Sakura sauntered to the bed, picked up the desired items and waltzed out.

When he was positive the door was closed again, Seimei let Nisei out.

The fighter was much paler than before and was clutching an old t-shirt in a childish manner, eyes as big as saucers.

- Put it on – Seimei commanded breathlessly, not even inspecting the choice of the t-shirt.

Nisei readily complied, having got more cold than he'd normally tolerate. Besides, the t-shirt was smelling of Seimei. His Sacrifice had an intoxicating scent.

- Why did you leave the Fearless' house in such a pitiful condition? – Seimei asked with an unreadable expression.

- His mother didn't approve of me in his bedroom – Nisei's voice was slightly shaking and he was nervously straightening the t-shirt.

Seimei was giving an impression that he didn't approve of it either, so Nisei felt obliged to carry on.

- I'd met her before and she'd convinced herself I'm his boyfriend. So when she found me in his bedroom, without a shirt on, she made a scene and kicked me out.

Seimei was still debating with himself whether the fighter was telling the truth or lying when he heard his father's voice.

- Yes, yes, you got the wrong album. The photos are in another…

It was beginning to seem that he lived on a station.

- The wardrobe – he whispered urgently, steering Nisei forward.

- Not again! – the fighter whined – I have claustrophobia!

Aoyagi-san was getting closer.

- Do you have seasickness?

- Noo…

- The bathroom, then! – Seimei sent a quick prayer that he had an adjoining bathroom and pushed the fighter inside – Not a sound – he added threateningly.

His father was already coming inside.

- Why didn't you help Sakura to find the albums? – Aoyagi-san shot at his son.

- I did. As much as I could. I can't really bend down with that headache – he touched his temple.

- Bullshit – his father cursed, picking up the right album – You don't have a headache.

Seimei made a dismayed face. He *did* have a headache now.

- Turn that thing off – Aoyagi-san snapped at him pointing to the computer – At least try to keep up appearances that you are unwell.

His son swallowed down a snide comeback. It wouldn't do him any good to start a quarrel on the top of everything. He dutifully switched the computer off, folding his arms to indicate that now that it'd been taken care of his father should leave.

- And what did I tell you about your dirty clothes? – Aoyagi-san was getting himself worked-up – To the bathroom so your mother can wash them!

Seimei almost burst out laughing when he realised his father meant Nisei's coat lying on his bed.

- Consider it done – he choked out trying to keep a straight face.

- "Consider it done"? That's rich – his father threw at him – You never do anything in this house! Just lazy around. Be grateful they're here, otherwise we'd be having a different talk.

Seimei eyebrows shot so high that they disappeared beneath his fringe. His father acting like a parent was a completely new thing. He could even find it fascinating under different circumstances.

Fortunately, the man just ranted a little bit more and left.

Taking Nisei's coat with him.

Well, it could have been worse. A bit.

He was actually getting worried not hearing any single rustle from the bathroom. He rushed to check up on Nisei and discovered the fighter half-lying on a toilet.

- Are you still alive? – a picture of having to dispose of Nisei in a way one normally send a dead goldfish to its last journey came to his head unbidden. His toilet was rather small.

Luckily, the fighter wouldn't be joining the goldfish heaven yet.

- And kicking – Akame tried to demonstrate and almost knocked out his teeth as he slipped – More or less.

- My father took your coat – Seimei felt obliged to inform.

- What? Why?

- He wants to wash it.

Nisei immediately jumped up at this.

- No! He can't do this, you have to stop him – he cried out frantically – It's a dry cleaning only!

- Calm down – Seimei manoeuvred him back and on a toilet again – He won't be doing a washing right now. And I can't go down to retrieve it, he's just yelled at me I don't bring dirty clothes for washing. How would it look if I went for it?

Nisei was either convinced or too drunk to protest further, so he only nodded, still a little miserably.

- I'll get it tomorrow – Seimei didn't know why he made this promise. He didn't owe Akame, it was the other way around if anything.

Few minutes of blessed silence followed after his assurance. Nisei was even appearing to be dozing off.

Then, his eyes opened and with all certainty, he announced.

- I think I'm gonna get sick.

- Go on, you're sitting on a toilet – Seimei was too tired to be disgusted.

- I'm not gonna do that to a toilet – the fighter made a face – It's revolting.

- It's revolting to get drunk to the point of getting sick – the curly haired boy sneered.

- It's not that – Akame disagreed – I didn't have this much. I just don't handle alcohol well.

- It's all the same – Seimei sighed.

- No. I don't want you to think I'm so degenerate drunkard.

- Believe me, that's the smallest of your problems that I can name.

Nisei shut up.

For about a minute.

- I'm still not feeling well. There's something bitter in my stomach and I can feel it's crawling up, stinging my throat…

Seimei swallowed with some difficulties.

- And it's slowly covering the whole inside of my mouth and I think it's trying to get out and…

- Shut up!

- But…

- Shut up! I get the idea.

Nisei glanced at him in surprise.

- You do?

- Yes, I do! A pretty good idea – he scratched his neck – Do you think you're going to throw up? – he didn't wish to witness that.

- I think I'm not going to if I had something to drink – Nisei answered after a long musing.

- There's water in the faucet.

Akame shuddered.

- I'm definitely going to puke if I drank faucet water – he declared.

- Fine – Seimei shrugged – I don't care. Gag yourself if it helps – he was ready to walk out.

- Do you really want me to throw up all over your bathroom? – the little devil was smiling at him cutely, eyes gleaming with wickedness.

He took in his toiletries, towels and what-nots. No, he didn't.

- Can I prevent it in any way? – he was sure Nisei had something on his mind.

The fighter grinned.

- I think a mug of hot tea would do the trick.

- You're in for one hell of punishment – Seimei vowed darkly and left.

- Black, lemon and sugar!

Seimei stuck his head back.

- And a baseball bat to beat the shit out of your sorry hide.

He quickly took care of the tea. Green tea, as he knew Nisei hated it.

His family hadn't reacted when he'd been coming down, but now, on his return, his aunt called to him.

- Sei-chan, not sleeping yet?

He fought down an urge to throw the mug at her.

- No, not sleeping yet – he drawled – But trust me I wish I was – not waiting for their reaction, he ran upstairs.

He drank half of the tea to get himself under control.

Which completely shattered when he noticed the door to his room was open. He entered on shaking legs and had managed to take two steps before a small body crashed into him.

Ritsuka!

- Sei-Seimei – the boy whispered, clutching his brother's shirt – There's a man in your bathroom.

Seimei was seriously close to tears.

- Come and see if you don't believe – the boy tugged at his sleeve, casting nervous glances around – He's dark and pale and…

They were already standing at the door, Ritsuka pointing to Nisei with a trembling finger, his other hand gripping his brother's wrist.

The bastard grinned at him. Seimei sent him a murderous glare and Akame's face fell a little.

- A friend of mine – Seimei stated.

- Friend? – Ritsuka frowned – But he's an adult, you aren't allowed to have adult friends!

- An adult? – Seimei snorted – A brat losing his ears prematurely.

Nisei was observing the exchange with growing interest. He loved observing his Sacrifice being uncomfortable.

- Exactly! He doesn't have them, he's an adult! – Ritsuka was insisting hotly.

- He's lying in an empty bath. Fully clothed – Seimei arched an eyebrow – Is that how an adult, mature person behaves?

- HEY! – Nisei exclaimed, looking insulted – Don't tell me you've never done it.

- Frankly, I haven't – he turned to Ritsuka who was still rather afraid – See, he's my friend. Nothing to worry about.

Tons to worry about. But he hoped the order to behave was clear in his eyes.

- What's your name? – not letting go of Seimei's hand, Ritsuka crept closer to the mysterious stranger occupying his brother's bath.

- Akame Nisei – the fighter bowed a little, a sweet smile plastered on his face – And you're the famous Ritsuka, aren't you?

- Seimei's told you about me? – Ritsuka's pupils sparked, as always when he was mentioned by his brother.

- Non-stop – thankfully Ritsuka was too young to detect sarcasm.

Seimei, however, wasn't.

- Just shut up. Ritsuka, come, he can stay there while we talk.

- No! – the younger Aoyagi protested – If you're his friend, I want to be his friend too!

Nisei sent Seimei a sly look.

How the sacrifice wished to strangle him.

- Of course, Rit-chan, you can be my friend – he declared warmly, opening his arms a little.

- Seimei never calls me that – Ritsuka murmured.

- Seimei has swallowed a stick – Nisei giggled – You are Rit-chan.

- Stop calling him that. It's ridiculous.

- I like it! – Ritsuka smiled and Seimei was out-voted – Have you really swallowed a stick? – he added concerned.

Nisei burst into uncontrollable laughter.

- No, it's a figure of speech – the older Aoyagi gritted out – Shouldn't you be going to bed, by the way? – he asked hopefully. Any other day he'd be glad to spend time with his brother. Just any other day.

- Will you tell me a fairy tale?

No. No. Nononononononononono…

- If you wish so – he feigned enthusiasm.

- Great! We're going – Ritsuka turned on his heels, but Nisei's voice stopped him.

- Hey, Rit-chan, wouldn't you rather see a trick?

Seimei blinked. Could it be Nisei was actually helping him?

- A trick? – Ritsuka wasn't convinced, eyeing the fighter suspiciously.

- Ya. A real magic trick – the other grinned.

- Magic doesn't exist – the ten-year-old noted with an air of finality.

- But tricks do. Look – slowly, Nisei turned the tap.

As soon as the first droplets of water fell down, he chanted softly.

- Trapped rivers, come to live. Swirling, running, laughing.

Water began to swirl around the fighter, appearing to be playing tag, gentle sound accompanying its every move.

Ritsuka was watching the show enchanted. Even his older brother was following the weird play, rarely having a chance to see word spells used outside a battle. Soubi never did that.

- Sleep – Nisei whispered and the water ceased its unnatural festival.

- Wow – Ritsuka looked up at him with pure admiration – That was brilliant. Can you do the same with fire?

- He's not trying to – Seimei swiftly cut in. Gods only knew what damage Akame would cause.

Ritsuka turned his sulking face to Nisei.

- Sorry, one meeting, one trick – the fighter smiled.

- But you will show me a new one when we meet next time? – the boy demanded.

- Sure. I'll come up with something you'll never forget – Nisei winked.

- I can't wait! Can't you show a little, little something now, please? It'll make me sleep well, and be patient before our next meeting and… - the boy was begging in a high voice.

Seimei nodded.

- Night wind carries a lullaby.

The bathroom was suddenly filled with a soft melody of unknown origin.

- It's wonderful – Ritsuka whispered, looking around with dreamy eyes.

- If you go to sleep now, you'll be able to hear it for some time – Nisei promised quietly, not disturbing the strange melody.

- Come, Ritsuka – Seimei gently took his brother's hand – You'll listen to the lullaby.

- OK – Ritsuka replied, too caught up in the song to voice any objections – Goodnight, Nisei - he waved his hand at the fighter.

- Sweet dreams.

As they left the bathroom, Seimei knelt down and looked into Ritsuka's eyes.

- Ritsuka, I'm afraid parents shouldn't know about Nisei's visit.

The boy frowned, then brightened up.

- Just like when Osamu was visiting?

- Just like that – his brother smiles.

- OK. You know, Seimei – the boy leaned down – Your friend is really cool. I hope I get to meet him a lot.

Seimei was set on making sure he wouldn't at all.

...

When he returned after tucking Ritsuka to bed, Nisei blurted out as soon as he walked in.

- Isn't he going to tell your parents?

- No, we have a mutual understanding – Seimei offered off-handily.

- A what?

- Why am I not surprised you don't know what it is… - the sacrifice snickered what earned him a middle finger from his fighter – Just come.

Interest peeked and nausea under control, Nisei tiptoed after Seimei.

- I'm going to sleep – the sacrifice informed.

- In your clothes? – Nisei tilted his head, not ably to imagine *Seimei* sleeping in his jeans.

- No, in my bed – the catboy slipped under his duvet – Lock the door and go to sleep.

Too shocked to come up with some remark, Nisei did as bidden. Only after locking the door he didn't really know what to do with himself.

Irritated with the knowledge that the cretin was just standing there like a pole, Seimei snapped.

- Come to bed if you must. Or do you sleep like a giraffe?

The shifting of the mattress told him that Nisei wasn't a giraffe.

- Seimei? – he called out softly.

- What? – a groan.

- Are you mad?

- Furious.

- Ah, OK.

Silence.

- Are you?

- Am I what?

- Mimuro's boyfriend.

A snicker.

- No. Nooo… Come on, I'm too young to be in a relationship. And well, I'm too handsome to waste away in one.

- Alright, be quiet.

- And actually, I'm a monogamist.

- Silence.

Suddenly, when Nisei was dozing off, he felt himself being embraced lightly. He stopped breathing.

- You couldn't have found a worse day to come, could you? – Seimei whispered, snickering – I never imagined a situation like this. You're worse than a tornado.

The fighter felt clumsy awkward pets to his head. He pressed his head into the gentle hand, which had hurt him so many times, and they grew more confident.

- You know – Seimei mused – You're not so bad when you're silent.

- And you're quite alright when you talk – Nisei admitted, hiding his face in the duvet and pressing more firmly to Seimei's side.

...

When Seimei woke up the next day, the bed was already empty. But still warm where the fighter had been lying.

Shaking off the foreign feeling of disappointment, Seimei reached out to a nightstand to check the time. His hand touched a paper.

"_Thanks for letting me sleep over but I'm not going to stick around so you can beat the shit out of me. Keep the coat. I'm taking the t-shirt after all._

_P.S. Sabes, I think I know what a "mutual understanding" is. Funny, ne?"_

_..._

A/N Feedback?


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